The Fifth Commandment
by ElvishKiwis Venerated Ancestor
Summary: A young man struggles to express his devotion to God through the corrupt religious system of his day, while still being true to his own conscience which calls him to honour his father and mother -no matter the cost. Inspired by and based on Mark 7:1-23
1. Restitution thwarted

Shlomo ben Moshe hunched his shoulders and scowled into the fringe of his prayer shawl.

His conscience was troubled.

He lingered toward the rear of the Talmudim following Reb. Caiaphas through the crowded marketplace - each instinctively swaying from side to side to avoid contact with those who might be 'defiled'.

As he walked, Shlomo replayed the conversation he'd had with the Rabbi that morning.

* * *

It had all begun when Caiaphas had intercepted Shlomo returning from the home of ben Keviah with a grin on his boyish face, and a pouch full of Shekels.

For some months now, the young Talmud had been recording the Keviah family History, as dictated to him by old father EIi. Today was the day he had delivered the finished manuscripts and received his payment. They had arrived from Jerusalem too late yesterday to make his delivery, but Shlomo had slipped away after his morning lesson. He had collected his payment, and was on his way to purchase presents he had been longing to buy his parents ever since their home had been raided by Romans last year.

Shlomo's mind was absorbed in his list:

_Let's see now,_

_3 dracmas for a new water pot; Amma will be so pleased to have a second one! It will halve her number of trips to the well._

_A new Chisel for Abba; Hopefully I can find a good one for less than 2 shekels. He's been forced to use that old rusted one which doesn't hold its edge since the Romans stole all his workshop tools. He's been able to replace some of them but I know he'd value a sharp Chisel more than anything._

_Oh yes, I'll get him a box of nails too; I've seen him counting them, a worried crease on his brow, when he thought I was asleep… that worried crease has never completely disappeared in the 8 months since those greedy, vengeful dogs entered our lives._

The joy momentarily left Shlomo's hitherto dancing brown eyes, as he recalled the parting curse of the last soldier to leave that fateful afternoon.

"That'll teach you not to get mud all over my pack again, you Jewish swine!"

His parents had never complained about the clumsiness which had led Shlomo to drop the man's heavy load in a puddle, but the burden of guilt he'd had to carry around with him these last months was a far greater burden than the one mile 'mule-duty' that the empire required from it's vanquished people. Now perhaps he could make restitution for his costly mistake.

_Now, _Shlomo resumed his mental list:

_1 shekel for some pretty yellow linen; It has been so long since Amma has had a new dress._

_I'm going to need a drachma or two to get this all delivered to Chorazin._

Shlomo's grin returned with the thought as he turned into Market Street, brushing his money pouch unintentionally on the corner fence and jiggling its contents noisily.

That was when Rabbi Caiaphas appeared at his elbow.

"Where are you off to on such a fine morning ben Moshe?" He eyed Shlomo's bulging pouch surreptitiously.

Shlomo started, and immediately cast his eyes down toward the fringe on the Rabbi's robe, thereby missing the direction of his glance. "Oh Rabbi, HaShem be praised"! He blushed in confusion. "I have just now received payment for some scribal work I have completed for the household of ben Keviah. I am on my way to buy gifts to take to my family when we visit Chorazin tomorrow."

"What about your tithes and temple tax my boy?" Caiaphas demanded sternly "I also notice that you haven't contributed to the priestly retirement fund lately either." Whatever Caiaphas's reputation as politically astute high priest, it was greatly surpassed by his renowned accounting skills, and infamous ability to exhort students who he considered lacked financial fervor in their devotion to the Lord.

Shlomo's face lost all its recently gained colour. "I have already reserved my tenth for the holy days and the levitical portion, and besides that I…. I think I can spare another 2 shekels for the retirement fund."

Caiaphas spat in anger, "Six measly shekels! How dare you show such ingratitude to Elohim! Give me that pouch, immediately! It shall all be Corban."

Shlomo frantically clutched at the Rabbi's robe as he turned away with the money pouch in his hand.

"But Rabbi! My family are poor, and I had hoped to use the money to bless them with much needed supplies!" Tears threatened to shame him.

The Rabbi turned back, instead of compassion his eyes reflected cruel unyielding as his right hand lashed across the young man's cheek. Without a word he turned on his heel and strode off toward the Synagogue, where the group from Jerusalem were staying.

* * *

The sting had gone from Shlomo's cheek,

But it still burned in his heart as the group of Pharisees neared their destination.

* * *

**A/N Glossary:**

**Yeshua:**** The Hebrew name for Jesus**

**Ben:**** son of**

**Talmudim****: students of Judaism (****Talmud****: is singular)**

**Rabbi:**** religious teacher (Reb For short)**

**Shekels:**** copper coin worth 4 ****dracmas. **** (The temple tax was 1 shekel)**

**Amma****: Mother**

**Abba****: Father**

**HaShem:**** literally "The Name" meaning the name of God which must not be uttered except with the utmost respect for fear of committing blasphemy.**

**Elohim:**** God (a plural form but not necessarily gods')**

**Corban****: a gift to God **


	2. Playmate Resurrected

Chapter Two: Playmate Resurrected

**Disclaimer: **

**All the Characters in this story other than Shlomo and his family and the ben Keviahs are true historical Characters who can be found in the pages of the Bible. I have taken the liberty to guess their appearances and give Jarius's wife and daughter names and personalities which may or may not match those given to them by their Creator. **

**The exact location of the events described in this story is not certain, but I have used poetic license to place it in the home of a very grateful synoguge official who lived in the area. **

**The familiarity I have portrayed between Yohonahan and Caiaphas is due to a speculation about their prior relationship which the gospel of John hints at (John 18:15). My guess is that Caiaphas may have been Yohonahan's first mentor on his search for Messiah, and he had possibly grown quite fond of the eager young disciple, until Yohonahan chose to follow the Baptist, and then later Yeshua himself, against Caiaphas's disapproval.**

**I have chosen to use the Hebrew names of the Characters rather than the transliterated ones we get in our English Bibles, partly because it helps us to imagine the culture that we are reading about better, and partly because I believe in making the effort to use people's proper names when we know them, rather than changing them to ones which sound more familiar to our ears. I am still working on these and may make further changes as other corrections come to my attention. I refer confused readers to a glossary at the end.**

**Now, back to the story!**

The Pharisees, along with their students, crowded through the iron gates of Jarius's home into the atrium beyond. The simple elegance of the Ionic columns and the green and blue mosaics on the floor immediately lifted Shlomo's mood.

"I love this place," he muttered to himself, as he moved toward his favourite spot by the marble fountain at the center of the courtyard.

He'd been here many times as a boy. Shlomo's mother was the cousin of Jarius's wife, and since Chorazin was less than a 4 hour walk from Capernaum, they often visited while his father was at market selling his furniture.

A young, slender man with curly black hair and a warm smile in his brown eyes broke away from a group at the far end of the atrium. Shlomo thought he looked familiar as he passed by on his way to greet Caiaphas.

"Rabbi, how good of you to come! To what do we owe the honour of your company?"

"Yohonahan." Caiaphas' voice reflected none of the friendliness of the young man's. "I wondered what had happened to you after that smelly Nazarite friend of yours had been disposed of."

By the time Caiaphas had finished his sentence, the smile had left Yohonahan's eyes, and dark anger and grief filled them instead. Shlomo had been watching with the greatest interest, surprised that the young man seemed so comfortable around the High Priest whom everyone else seemed to treat with a mixture of awe and fear. Yohonahan lowered his voice and muttered something for Caiaphas' ears only, which resulted in the Rabbi's face flushing with anger.

At this interesting point, however, Shlomo suddenly lost his vision as two small brown hands slipped across his eyes from behind and an unnaturally gruff voice demanded, "Guess who?"

Shlomo grinned, "Oh, Shalom, Cousin Jarius".

There was a high pitched giggle and all pretence of masculinity was dropped. "Guess again!"

Shlomo pretended to smell the hands for clues. "Mmm soapy…You must be Marta the cleaning lady!" Another giggle and the hands were removed. A pretty girl of about 12 with dark brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes bobbed into view.

"Oh! It's you Yovela. I never would have guessed!"

"Don't be silly Shlomo. You were just pretending you didn't know it was me."

Shlomo chuckled in agreement as he moved over to make room for his friend on the broad edge of the pool beside him. "So, what mischief have you been up to lately, my little cousin?"

Yovela's eyes widened in surprise. ""Haven't you heard, then?"

Shlomo chuckled again. "Much as it might surprise you, Yovela, news of your escapades doesn't usually get as far as Jerusalem."

However, there was no matching laughter in Yovela's eyes this time as she searched his face anxiously to discern if he really was ignorant of what she was about to tell him. "But how could you not know? Your mother and father were among the mourners."

Shlomo's expression sobered and he gently took Yovela in his arms. "I am so sorry for teasing you, Yov. You should have stopped me… It wasn't…your mother, was it?"Yovela pushed against his chest, freeing herself, then looked away in embarrassment and confusion.

" No"… she paused as if wondering how to proceed, then looked directly at him. "It was me."

For one and a half seconds her serious expression almost convinced him, before the nonsense of her words sunk in. Shlomo exploded into laughter, slapping her good naturedly on the back.

"Well done, cousin! You really had me worried there. I thought someone really had died! Hahaahaa! 'It was me,' she said! Hahaahaa!" Tears were streaming down his face at the joke.

"But it WAS!" Yovela's voice showed the frustration she felt at not being believed. " I have been very sick with the fever, and none of the usual medicines had any effect. Someone told father that Yeshua of Nazareth was in the area and had been healing the sick wherever he went, so Father, in desperation, went to find him. By the time they got back, however, it was too late, I had already died."

Shlomo, who had stopped laughing to listen to her narrative, interrupted her at this point with a wide grin.

"Nice try, Yov, but you won't catch me the same way twice."

"But I am telling the truth! You have to believe me!"

Suddenly, Yovela grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the now crowded room to the large group of men at the back from which Yohonahan had emerged when the Pharisees had first arrived. She tugged on the sleeve of the biggest man there, who stood with his back to them, listening to someone speaking.

"Shimon, I need you," she whispered loudly.

The muscular man turned and smiled down at her, "What is it, Yovela?" he whispered back.

"My cousin here thinks I am lying when I said I was dead. You have to make him believe that I am telling the truth!"

The big man drew her aside from the group and crouched down so he could meet her eyes, one huge hand on each of her shoulders.

"Yovela, you know Rabbi Yeshua told you not to tell anyone about that." he admonished sternly.

Yovela's eagerness vanished. In confusion, she looked past his shoulder at the man Shimon had been listening to. The Rabbi was still speaking, but his reassuring eyes met Yovela's nervous gaze with a tiny smile and a slight shake of the head before he looked away. Yovela let out a small sigh.

"I am sorry, Shimon. I forgot. He's my friend…and he asked… I'm sorry." She hung her head in shame.

Shimon lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "It is alright this time," he said kindly, "but both of you," (this time he included Shlomo in his gaze), " must remember not to tell anyone else about how Yeshua raised you from the dead, okay? Not a living soul!"

"Not a living soul," Yovela obediently repeated.

Shlomo just stared at the big man, unaware that his jaw had dropped in amazement.

"And you, young man?" Shimon prompted. "Do you promise too?"

Shlomo finally found his tongue. "Not a living soul!" the words rushed out.

"Good, now don't you forget it," said the fisherman as he straightened up and turned his attention back to the teacher.

Shlomo stared at his cousin in wonder and pulled her out to the garden where he spent the next hour interrogating her on what it had been like to be dead.

Finally, they were found by Yovela's mother, Mariamme .

"Shalom, Shlomo." She gave his cheek a kiss. "I thought I saw you arrive with the others from Jerusalem". Her arms went protectively around her daughter's waist while she spoke to him. "Are your studies going well?"

"Yes, thank you, Cousin Mariamme," replied Shlomo, "although I'd rather be at home helping Father."

"Your parents will both be very glad to see you, I am sure." A secret smile passed between herself and Yovela. " Now come, both of you, and wash for dinner. It is almost served"

**Glossary:**

**Shalom **- "Peace to you." a common greeting or farewell.

**Rabbi -** Teacher

**Talmud -** A student of the sacred writings. (Also refers to, the commentary on the scriptures)

**Talmudim** - students (plural form)

**Nazarite** - A person who was dedicated to God in a special way. Refer Numbers, chapter 6, for details.

**Names:**

**Shlomo** – Solomon.

**Yohonahan** – John (as in Zebadee's youngest son).

**Yovela** – (Named after my four year old!), means 'a joyful heart.'

**Shimon** – Simon (as in Simon Peter).

**Mariamme** – (Named after Herod the Great's Jewish wife. The last of the ruling Maccabean line.

Thereby, securing his claim to the throne).

**Yeshua** – Jesus.


	3. Hypocrisy Confronted

Chapter 3: Hypocrisy Confronted.

**Disclaimer: **

**All the Characters in this story other than Shlomo and his family, Yair, and the ben Keviahs are true historical Characters, who can be found in the pages of the Bible. I have taken the liberty to guess their appearances and give Jarius's wife and daughter names and personalities which may or may not match those given to them by their Creator. **

**I am not certain that they had Yarmulke 2000 years ago, as it is a Yiddish word not Hebrew. Poetic license grins sheepishly! **

**The scripture quotations in this chapter have come directly from the New King James version of the Bible (Mark 7:5-13). Although a little dissatisfied with the readability of it, I am loath to alter it, because it is Holy Scripture! shocked look that one might even consider such blasphemy **

**Please note the correction to Yochonan's name in the glossary at the end. My apologies to anyone who took the trouble to learn it in my distorted memory's version.**

There was much jostling around the fountain as Shlomo and Yovela waited their turn to wash. All the Talmudim and more senior Rabbim were there, with their prayer shawls in place, washing their goblets as well as their hands. Many people Shlomo recognized as being part of Cousin Jarius's congregation from the synagogue, some with prayer shawls and some wearing a yarmulke. There were others too, strangers to Shlomo, but welcomed by the crowd at the fountain who kindly made room for them to wash first. There was a cacophony of muttered prayers all around them:

"Baruk atah Adonai Elohaynu, Melach Ha Olam…" the traditional prayer of dedication. Shlomo had just finished praying it for himself and Yovela as the running water flowed over their hands, when he felt a sharp dig in his ribs. It was his friend Yair, grinning widely.

"Found yourself a girl already, eh Shlomo? Boy, you do move fast! I wondered what you were up to this past hour or two!" He rolled his eyes in mock admiration.

Beside him, Shlomo felt Yovela flinch, and a brief glance confirmed that her eyes were lowered, and a was flush on her cheek.

_It is unusual to see her embarrassed so easily…_ he thought briefly, as he threw his arm casually across her shoulders.

"Yair, meet my _cousin_ Yovela, daughter of our host today - and deserving of more respect than you are offering her," he said pointedly.

"I am very sorry Miss." Yair had the grace to flush himself, as he addressed her. "I forgot myself… in my momentary delight over my friend's happiness." A sly look at Shlomo followed this last statement, and Yovela hesitated, eyes still adverted before muttering her acceptance, and the need to go help her mother with preparations.

Shlomo glared at the smug grin on Yair's face, in exasperation, but said nothing as they moved toward the group of men clustered at the back of the courtyard. Yochonan brushed past them, toward the fountain, pulling a yarmulke from inside his tunic. He was one of the last to wash for dinner, as the smells of plates piled with steaming fish and olives began to be distributed among the guests. The fish was soon followed by pita breads, dried fruits, fresh and aged cheeses, along with delicious spicy sauces, yoghurts, and hummus for dipping. Shlomo, who was seated just behind Shimon, heard Mariamme thank Shimon for his generous gift of fish for the meal.

"It is so lovely and fresh Shimon, and has made it so much easier to cater for all these guests. Thank you from my heart." She gave him a warm smile then moved away, carrying the empty platter with her.

'_So That's why Yochonan and Shimon looked so familiar_,' Shlomo thought to himself, as a memory of the two men selling their fish at the market flashed into his mind.

Suddenly the sound of angry, challenging words arrested his thoughts. The room fell silent as Caiaphas rose to his feet and addressed Yeshua.

"Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with unwashed hands?"

Yeshua paused, looking intently at Caiaphas, before he slowly answered.

"Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written:

'_This people, honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me._

_And in vain they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men._'

For laying aside the commandment of God, you hold the tradition of men – the washing of pitchers and cups and many such things you do."

Shlomo was impressed… and a little fearful, at the man's boldness!

Caiaphas scowled, muttering indignantly. "Since when have I rejected the commandments of God in favor of tradition?! Our traditions _require_ us to keep the commandments."

"All too well you reject the commandment of God," Yeshua continued persistently, "That you may keep your own tradition. For Moshe said, 'Honor your Abba and Amma,' and, 'he who curses Abba or Amma, let him be put to death.'

"But you say, 'If a man says to his Abba or Amma, "Whatever profit you might have received from me is Corban,"' and you no longer let him do anything for his Abba or Amma, making the word of God of no effect through your tradition which you have handed down."

He looked slowly around the group. His penetrating gaze lingered on each Rabbi in turn. Most of them looked away in confusion, but one or two thoughtfully returned his gaze. Finally his eyes rested on Shlomo, and he gave the boy a reassuring smile.

'_How could he have known?_' Shlomo wondered in amazement.

"And many such things you do," Yeshua quietly concluded, smiling his thanks to one of the women, nervously clearing away plates and goblets from nearby.

Caiaphas stood glaring at the man, undisguised hate in his eyes, as the murmur of conversation grew around him. He suddenly turned on his heel and strode from the house, an imperious gesture of his arm sending the whole contingent from Jerusalem scurrying to collect their belongings and hurry after him.

"Coming?" Yair asked Shlomo, one eyebrow lifted.

Shlomo, with an effort, tore his stunned gaze away from Rabbi Yeshua , and shook his head at his friend.

"No, I want to hear more," he said, his brown eyes wordlessly begging his friend to cover for him.

"Shalom, then." Yair squeezed Shlomo's shoulder as he reluctantly turned to follow the others. "I hope you find what you are looking for."

**A/N Glossary:**

**Yochonan:**** John as in son of Zebadee. **

**The 'ch' is pronounced with a glottal fricative as in the Scottish 'loch'**

**(Please note, this is a correction from the Previous glossary where I called him Yohonahan). **

**Yeshua:**** The Hebrew name for Jesus**

**Talmudim****: students of Judaism (****Talmud****: is singular)**

**Rabbi:**** religious teacher (Reb For short)**

**Yarmulke:**** a skull cap worn by Jewish men or boys during prayer or study of the scriptures. **

"**Baruch Atach Adonai Elohaynu Melach Ha Olam****:" ' Blessed are you Lord God King of the Universe…**

**(This is the opening of most ceremonial prayers, including the washing of hands and implements)**

**Yair****: means -he will enlighten**

**Amma****: Mother**

**Abba****: Father**

**Corban****: a gift to God **


End file.
